


This is a Business Meeting, Kravitz

by AnonymousPuzzler



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, fair warning there are f words sprinkled liberally throughout, kravitz but every time taako does anything he gets gayer: the fanfic, spoilers for Crystal Kingdom and Eleventh Hour arcs plus Lunar Interlude IV, this was supposed to be a oneshot but everything spun out of control
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-26 02:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10777107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousPuzzler/pseuds/AnonymousPuzzler
Summary: With thousands of inexplicable deaths to be accounted for, and the trio from the Miller lab somehow addingmoredeaths to their (already ludicrous) bounties, Kravitz seeks out Taako for answers.Needless to say, things get away from him.





	1. The Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> so I started writing this as a quick oneshot and suddenly I had a five-chapter character-slash-relationship exploration on my hands. Kravitz what have you done to me buddy

Kravitz, for lack of a better word, feels _off._

 

The feeling starts off small, barely perceptible at first - the best corporeal equivalent he can think of is the mild pressure of an impending headache - but by later in the day it’s built, steadily and increasingly overwhelming, until he’s confidently able to identify it as the balance of life and death shifting further and further from the norm. The feeling isn’t particularly abnormal (hard to be a decent grim reaper if you’re not able to sense things going out of whack), but it is _unexpected_ for this time of year. Necromancy season generally doesn’t kick in for another few months, so bounties are pretty sparse, which is exactly why he’s cooped up doing paperwork rather than hunting down liches and dark warlocks right now.

 

But there it is anyway. That overwhelming, vaguely headache-y feeling. Grimacing, he materializes a heavy, dark tome in front of him, flipping open the cover to see what new bounties have appeared.

 

Unsurprisingly, the first names he sees are the trio from the Miller lab - they have the highest unclaimed bounties by a significant margin, after all. But the reaper lingers for a moment and cocks an eyebrow in confusion, quietly observing that the numbers somehow appear to be _higher_ than he last remembers.

 

Blinking, he takes a moment to run the math in his head. Taako Tacco, eight deaths; Magnus Burnsides, nineteen deaths; Merle _fucking_ Highchurch, fifty-seven deaths. The page in front of him now shows, respectively, nineteen, thirty, and a whopping _sixty-eight_ deaths on file.

 

Yep. Math checks out. Somehow, these boys had managed to get themselves killed _eleven_ more times, all without a single trip to the Astral plane.

 

How the _fuck_.

 

Before he could investigate, or really even consider any further, his thoughts were interrupted by what he could only describe as a sudden, sharp _tug_ at the center of his very soul, so strong that it pulled him straight to his feet and ripped a hissed, unnecessary breath from his clenched teeth. This feeling, too, wasn’t necessarily unfamiliar; he understood instinctively that this was a call to the side of the Raven Queen. That said, normally, the call wouldn’t be quite so… well, _forceful_. Whatever she needed him for, it was clearly _exceedingly_ urgent.

 

(His mind wandered back to the trio as he started off to her chambers, the eleven new deaths, the bet to erase their bounties that they had managed to win against him, and Kravitz tries very, very hard to convince himself he’s not being called in to be fired.)

 

The Raven Queen is, at first glance, serene as always when he arrives - perched in front of an intricately designed stained glass window, a glossy sheen to her dark feathers, a cacophony of glittering, silvery bangles and charms strewn over her silky robes and black veil. But Kravitz has worked for the Raven Queen a long, long time (or at least he thinks he has; time worked funny in the Astral plane, and he’d never been especially good at parsing it even in life), so he’s able to pick up on her unease without a particularly close investigation. Attempting to ignore the knots subsequently forming in his incorporeal stomach, he stands before her attentively, ready to receive his next job.

 

She takes a moment to turn and fix her gaze on him, as if she hadn’t quite noticed his arrival. “Kravitz,” she finally begins, her voice deep, smooth, full of poise and gravitas befitting a goddess of death. “You’re not gonna believe this shit.”

 

A beat. “Do tell,” he finally responds (fairly smoothly, he thinks, given everything).

 

The Raven Queen takes a moment to settle herself, feathers ruffling slightly as she does. “Where to even begin. Do you remember those three boys you tracked down at the Miller lab?”

 

“The ones with the patently ridiculous number of deaths, yes.” He hesitates a moment, trying to steady his nerves, before quietly observing, “they’ve added a few more recently.”

 

“They sure have.” His Queen leans down now, eyes meeting his more directly. “And I bring this up because I just want to drive home how _fucked up_ this next bit is: we just received information on a whole group of people who make those three look like die-and-dash _amateurs_.”

 

Kravitz responds with a slow blink, anxiety abruptly giving way to sheer, stupefied confusion.

 

“ _Right?_ So, listen to this,” the Queen continues. “There’s this little town called Refuge, down in the middle of the Woven Gulch? Real small settlement, can’t have more than a few dozen people living there. But, Kravitz-” and she leans down even further on that, fully eye-level with him now- “every single person in Refuge has died _two-thousand, five-hundred and seventeen times._ ”

 

Somehow, Kravitz abruptly experiences the feeling of choking on a drink in surprise, despite not having a drink and also being _incorporeal_.

 

“My feelings exactly.” The Raven Queen sits back up, looming over him again, and gazes thoughtfully somewhere just past him. “There’s a few other things that make this one even weirder, if that was even fuckin’ possible. First, those two-thousand or so deaths across an entire town? No indications of a single one on our end until today. No bounties came in for anyone from Refuge. Second, those deaths? One per resident every hour, on the hour, for seven years. Until today - as far as preliminary info goes; it’s been a few hours on the Material plane now and no one from Refuge appears to have racked up any more deaths, or at least not without checking in with us as nature intended. And, a third thing-” she locks eyes intently with him again- “which is where _you_ really come in on this whole shitshow.”

 

The knot in Kravitz’s stomach has returned with a vengeance.

 

“Third, those Miller lab boys of yours?” Oh yeah, that knot is here to _stay_ now. “Turns out those new deaths they racked up? Surprise, surprise, right there in Refuge. _But_ \- and here’s the real interesting bit, I think - their eleven deaths synced up with the _last_ eleven deaths of everyone else in Refuge, before the whole thing stopped and we finally got all this info down on our end. Doesn’t seem like a huge leap to think that, whatever was killing off Refuge over and over - and blocking us from seeing it to boot - those knuckleheads actually _stopped_ it.”

 

This new information is enough that Kravitz, struggling to find an appropriate response to this bizarre clusterfuck of a situation, ends up just silently opening and closing his mouth like a stupid, dumbass fish for a solid twenty seconds. Luckily for him, the Raven Queen doesn’t appear to notice, as she’s glanced off with that thoughtful look again.

 

“Kravitz.” He snaps back to attention, not certain how long he’s been floundering and she’s been thinking; the Queen has turned back to him now with something of a casual, curious look. “What do you think the chances are those boys would be willing to speak with you?”

 

And he’s back to floundering, blinking at the question. She simply regards him, silent and with an absurd amount of patience, until he finally recovers from this series of curveballs enough to consider her query.

 

Magnus. He starts with Magnus, because Magnus is an absolute hulking beast of a man, with a protective nature and little apparent regard for consequences (a trait the three of them seem to have in common), and that makes it easy to rule him out. He’s fairly certain Magnus would get one glimpse at him and immediately rush him with his axe. Kravitz is not especially eager to be rushed down with an axe today.

 

Next, Merle. Last time he had seen Merle, he’d impersonated the dwarf’s God and ended up costing him an arm. This seemed like it would be a significant roadblock on the path to a peaceful discussion. Kravitz soundly filed Merle away as a “no”.

 

Taako.

 

Kravitz took pause there. Taako was… _unpredictable_ , to say the least ( _“Hey, thug, what’s your name, I’m about to tentacle your dick”_ ). Unpredictable, and indisputably a powerful wizard, enough to pose a _very_ real threat to the reaper in a serious fight. But, all things considered, Taako had seemed somewhat… receptive to him during their previous meetings (his mind unexpectedly jumps to the elf calling him “handsome”, and he shoves that thought away _right_ quick thank you very much). Equally as important, he seemed significantly less eager to rush headlong into a fight than his companions. Yes, Taako was just unusual and unpredictable enough that it seemed _entirely_ within the realm of possibility for him to sit down with the grim reaper, chatting casually about dying eleven times that day.

 

“...I.” He starts and stops hesitantly, awkwardly attempting to articulate his line of thinking. “One. I think there’s one, um, one of the three of them that might- _might_ be willing to speak with me about this. Maybe.”

 

The Queen tilts her head, just slightly, in a way that makes her beak appear to be set in a pleased grin. “Excellent news. I’d like you to track him down and get some more information as soon as you’re able. In the meantime, we have a few of our people here that will be speaking with recent arrivals from Refuge, and I-” the grin somehow appears to widen- “am going to pay a visit to Lady Istus. She had some followers in Refuge at one point, and, like, this fate and time stuff is kind of her whole jam.”

 

“Of course.” Kravitz grins back, slightly cheeky, because it’s no secret at all that the Queen needs no excuse to see Lady Istus. The inevitable intertwining of fate and death meant the two goddesses were equally close-knit, and as luck would have it, the pair were _exceedingly_ fond of each other.

 

The Raven Queen simply winks knowingly in response. “Off with you, then. You’ve got some digging to do. Oh, and Kravitz?” She calls after him at the last moment, after he’s turned and nearly left the room; when he glances back she is wearing what he can only describe as a shit-eating grin. “Be sure you wear something nice. Stick with a flesh form, maybe; a lot less intimidating than crystal. Plus-” she punctuates this part by jingling her innumerable bangles and necklaces- “the elf strikes me as a man who appreciates the finer things, you know?”

  
The reaper thinks about asking her how she guessed he planned to speak with Taako, but after another glance at that shit-eating grin, he made what he felt was the very wise decision to just nod and make his way out of the room instead.


	2. The Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want you all to read my description of Taako's outfit and I want you to go back to all the big incredible dramatic scenes in The Eleventh Hour and mentally insert Taako in that exact outfit. you're welcome

Locating Taako, surprisingly enough, turned out to be a fairly difficult step. Normally, tracking a bounty was easy once he’d already encountered them in the material realm; it gave him enough of a read on the unique signature of their spirit that he could, at the very least, parse a general location to start looking in. Taako, ever-unpredictable, didn’t appear to be anywhere on Faerûn, and a more extensive search didn’t reveal so much of a hint of him anywhere planet-side.

 

…Planet-side.

 

Half-jokingly and feeling deeply stupid, Kravitz scans the sky over Faerûn. Sure enough, Taako’s signature comes into view on what appears to be the goddamn _moon_.

 

What the _fuck._

 

Regardless, he’s found his bounty (well, not bounty, he supposes; not this time), and so he opens a portal and slips quietly off to the material plane. He starts off incorporeal, slipping his spirit into rocks and trees (why are there rocks and trees on the fucking _moon_ ) to observe. After all, he has no real information to go on, and would really prefer not to charge in blind to this conversation. Charging in blind carries a very significant risk of getting himself absolutely wrecked, either by a startled Taako or his cartoonishly violent friends, and he is not especially in the mood to deal with that today.

 

It doesn't take too long for him to gather enough to go on, luckily enough. From eavesdropped conversations and context clues around the area, he deduces that he’s on some kind of headquarters disguised as a second moon (why does Taako live on a _fake moon_ ). From the casual conversation of an orc and dragonborn he recognizes from the Miller lab, he learns the trio Taako is a part of appears to be called either “the Reclaimers” (weird) or “Tres Horny Boys” (also weird, but sounds much more like something those three would call themselves). There’s a single small child on the fake moon ( _what the fuck_ ) that apparently studies magic with Taako, and Kravitz overhears from him that “the Reclaimers” live on the very bottom floor of a central “dormitory” building (is Taako in fucking _fake moon college_?). That, in particular, is very much the information he needs, and as soon as the coast is clear he makes a break for the elevator.

 

Inter-planar portals and an incorporeal form allow him entrance to the dorm without fuss - it’s surprisingly nice, spacious and well-decorated, and to his relief, currently appears to be unoccupied. He takes a moment to compose himself, literally and figuratively - concentrating until his spirit expands and shapes, simulated muscle and skin and clothing forming around the skeletal reaper form he so often takes on. The Raven Queen’s advice, however playful, has stuck with him, as has Taako’s apparent comfort with his flesh form in their past meeting ( _handsome_ , and nope nope nope, definitely doesn’t need that right now, not when he’s trying to concentrate).

 

There’s a mirror just by the front door (large and intricately framed, but age-worn, covered in lipstick marks and dried flowers and passive-aggressive sticky-note reminders to _hey maybe clean up your shit guys_ ), so he takes a moment to double-check his constructed corporeal form, ensuring it looks suitably ( _handsome_ ) non-intimidating. Luckily, things seemed to be in order - he hasn't missed constructing any of his face, no bits of skull gaping through at his cheekbones or some such thing - his dreadlocks were a little bit askew from his bun, but he thought there was a certain charm to that; and the blank, glowing soul-fire of his eyes was admittedly a bit unnerving on an otherwise-lifelike construct, but, frankly, there was nothing he could do about that. (Well, aside from constructing some blood-red pupils, and he was fairly certain that would come off as much more intimidating than the soul-fire. This would have to do.)

 

Okay. So. All good on his end. Now to just… wait for Taako. He lingers, standing, a moment, bouncing on his heels and clasping his hands in a nervous gesture - boy, he must look _real_ fuckin’ stupid right now - before electing to sit on the couch instead. At attention, back straight and suit crisp and expression professional, but like… legs crossed, hands folded on one knee, real comfortable and casual-like. No need to look like he was there for an interrogation, right? This was just a talk. A polite, casual talk, about twenty-five hundred deaths that needed to be accounted for. Real chill convo.

 

(He tried very hard to convince himself this would not be a fucking trainwreck.)

 

He’s not sure how much time passes - shit, is he _bad_ at judging Material-plane-time or what - but eventually there’s the distinctive rattle of keys in the lock of the front door. For a single, deeply panic-stricken moment, he considers abandoning the flesh-body construct and diving into the nearest lamp, just waiting to make sure Magnus and Merle aren’t going to walk in and immediately attack him. Luckily for him, his Queen’s sweet-talking with the Goddess of Fate appears to be manifesting in a favor to him, and before he has time to go incorporeal Taako walks in alone, shutting the door behind him. Thank you, Lady Istus.

 

Taako doesn’t appear to be paying very close attention as he staggers in, visibly exhausted and lightly coated in red clay dust, and drops his keys unceremoniously in a bowl by the door, so Kravitz gets the opportunity to - well, to take him in, for lack of a better word. When they’d last met, the elf had been in a head-to-toe null suit that obscured pretty much all but his face, hair pinned up in an intricately braided bun and a floppy-brimmed wizard hat balanced precariously on top of his helmet (which, in retrospect, said a lot about Taako’s personality; all flash and charm and _I do what I want_ over real practicality). Now he wore the same floppy-brimmed hat, but over a long braid tied with a simple pink bow, a mauve skirt reaching midway down his thighs, heeled boots, and a crop-top with “NASTY BOI” emblazoned across the chest in cursive, glittery letters. It was, to put it frankly, _very_ Taako.

 

(He’s kind of beautiful. Shit, _fuck_ , Kravitz, what the _hell_ , now is not the time. This is a business meeting.)

 

The elf turns to the coatrack before the reaper can think to draw his attention, hanging up his bag, what appears to be a faded turquoise parasol, and a dark leather cloak slung haphazardly over one of his shoulders (“Someday you’ll be useful, old friend,” he murmurs fondly to it, patting the fabric in a way that seems almost comforting). He turns back, and Kravitz sits even more at attention, certain he’s going to finally take notice and ask what he’s doing here or maybe just attack and - and nope, he’s completely turned around, eyes not once resting anywhere near the reaper on the couch. Blissfully unaware, Taako simply struts (how can someone so visibly worn-down manage a _strut_ ) over to the attached kitchen, dropping a basket of baked goods on the counter and fishing through what appears to be a wine fridge, retrieving a bottle that he immediately attempts to uncork with his teeth.

 

Okay. All right. He has no idea Kravitz is here. That’s fine. Kravitz is just sitting here watching the elf go about his evening, in his home that it now occurs to him he’s _technically_ broken into, and he needs to get this man to talk to him about several thousand inexplicable deaths and he’s just fucking sitting there and Taako appears fully invested in spending his night drinking an entire bottle of wine alone. This is going fantastic. He has no fucking idea what to do. Great. Good job not rushing into this unprepared, huh, Kravitz.

 

After several long moments of the reaper floundering (boy, he’s been doing a lot of that today) and the wizard continuing to struggle with the corked wine bottle, Kravitz finally stands up, awkwardly hesitates another minute, and then clears his throat softly. It’s not exactly the most… sophisticated solution, but it works - Taako’s long, elven ears snap up, sending his multiple piercings swinging against each other, and after another second, he turns, slow and cautious, to give Kravitz a wide-eyed look, teeth still fastened around the bottle cork.

 

(Cute. _Not the time._ )

 

“...Well. We- need to talk, don’t we?” He finally begins, trying _extremely_ hard to find just the right tone for this whole thing - composed and professional, but also light, gentle, hoping to make it clear that he had no intention of fighting (but also that this was like, some real serious shit that needed to be worked out). “‘Cause you boys… you’ve added quite a bit to your death count, haven’t you?”

 

For a long second, Taako just continues to gape. Then, slowly, unexpectedly, his mouth spreads into a wide, lazy grin, panic vanishing from his eyes, and he finally releases the cork from his mouth to tilt his head and drawl, casual as anything, “That one’s on me.”

 

Kravitz can only think to respond with a long, slow, befuddled blink.

 

Taako, on the other hand, seems comparatively unfazed, setting the yet-unopened wine bottle down next to the basket and leaning back against the counter, smirking like he’s simply entertaining a houseguest. “ _So!_ Hm. I guess that’s, uh- you here to like, take us in for realsies this time?” His head falls to one shoulder as he speaks, one hand gesticulating expressively, a single pointed ear pinning back downwards in a cautious position. “Because, like, gotta say, much as I’m enjoying the reappearance of this whole Handsome McGoodFace deal-” Kravitz tries very, very hard not to dwell on that, and even harder to keep a hot blush from rising to his face- “I’m, you know, I’m very much _not_ into going to hell jail today. Already spent too much time in a cell today, thank you very much.”

 

“No, I’m not - _what?_ ”

 

“Long story. Hey, you into wine?” The elf interrupts himself easily, ears perking up again and wine bottle returning to his hands. “I got an, uh… well, fuck if I know, it’s red wine, like, who the fuck cares right now, right? You in? Or, wait, shit, can you like - does that thing even, uh, take beverages?” He gestures vaguely to Kravitz’s corporeal form, continuing, “I mean, didn’t exactly have the pleasure of seein’ this bad boy in person last time around, I dunno if everything’s packed solid in there or if you’d just have wine dumpin’ out your ribcage…”

 

“Wh- no, I don’t, I mean - it’s, I’m _corporeal_ right now, it wouldn’t fall-” Fuck’s sake, he’s losing control of the conversation _very_ rapidly right now. “Taako, the whole reason I’m _here_ is to get that long story. An entire town has been _dying_ on repeat for seven years, the Astral plane has next to no information on any of it, and the three of you-”

 

“Woah, woah, _woah_ , back up a tick right there,” Taako interrupts, on the opposite side of the little kitchen island now; apparently at some point he’d worked his way over there to uncover an actual corkscrew and Kravitz hadn’t even noticed. “You and your- bird goddess or whatever got _nothing_ on this one? I mean, like- not to be rude, I’m sure your job is very hard ‘n all, but like, shouldn’t- shouldn’t a whole town dying a billion times be something you, like, _notice_?”

 

“It is. And that’s exactly why I’m _here_ ,” he reiterates, taking half a step in the elf’s direction. “Seven years, twenty-five hundred deaths per citizen, and somehow we weren’t alerted to a _single_ bounty. And then the three of you show up, rack up a few more deaths, and suddenly Refuge stops dying and _countless_ unresolved bounties start flooding down to the Astral plane. None of which makes a single lick of _sense._ ”

 

“Well, get used to that, dude,” comes a responding bark of laughter from Taako. “Like, not to make light of this or whatevs, but that’s, uh, that’s kinda a side effect of proximity to the ol’ Tres Horny Boys, ya know? Lotta _weird_ shit happens around us.”

 

Kravitz has to take a moment and a long, slow breath to resist inquiring about that _fucking_ nickname. _Don’t_ , Kravitz, just don’t. It took long enough to get back on topic as it is.

 

“Taako, I- you were _there_. In Refuge,” he finally continues, certain the look he’s giving Taako is nothing short of desperate by now. “You _died_ eleven times. You saw what was happening. You _know_ what was causing all this. And, if you’ll forgive a little speculation, I think the three of you may have been the reason it _stopped_.”

 

There’s a long beat of silence, Taako’s expression guarded and unreadable, hands stilled on the wine bottle and corkscrew. Kravitz straightens himself out, takes another breath to attempt to compose himself, and meets the elf’s slightly wide-eyed gaze.

 

“...Are we in trouble?” The question is much softer, more cautious than anything he would have expected from him, and Kravitz feels himself deflate. So much for not being intimidating here, right? Great job. Fantastic. This absolutely definitely has not been a trainwreck so far.

 

“No- no, you're not- or, well, I mean, you’re not in trouble _now_ , I suppose; knowing you lot I can only imagine that could change at any second but- I-I’m not here on a bounty.” He settles on that, clasping his hands in front of him and glances up from slightly beneath his constructed lashes. “I just want to talk. Find out- find out exactly what happened in Refuge.”

 

Another pause. Then Taako grins, and despite himself, Kravitz relaxes. “Cool, cool. Yeah, I mean, sure, _yeah_ , I’m down with a nice chat sesh; not like I’ve got anything better to do tonight, honestly. You wanna, uh- I dunno when Magnus and Merle are gonna be back around, you wanna just wait for them, or, uh-”

 

“ _No,”_ the reaper interrupts, a little too sharply, too quickly, Taako’s brows raising well past the brim of his hat in response. “I mean, uhm, no, I just, no, er- they- I doubt they’d, uh, they wouldn't really, um-” _Fuck_ , great job playing it cool, dumbass. “I- I don’t think that will be… necessary. I, um, to be honest, I was, well… I-I thought it best to just speak, uhm, specifically with you. Alone. If you don't mind.”

 

Smooth as hell. Kravitz, why are you like this.

 

(For a second, during which time which he can only assume his eyes are playing tricks on him, Taako looks _ecstatic._ )

 

“ _Rad_ ,” the elf replies with barely a beat, lazy grin now widened almost to the very edges of his face. “Yeah, _yeah_ , I mean, I’m down with that. Hey, you never answered me about the wine, handsome, you gonna jump on this or what? Because like, seriously, I’m not even gonna bother with a glass if you’re not havin’ any. Gonna chug this fuckin’ bottle and Maggie ‘n Merle can bite my ass if they got a problem.”

 

( _Holy shit he called him_ handsome _again shit shit_ shit _Kravitz this is_ not _the time--_ )

 

“I- _sure_ ,” he finally relents. “I mean, if you’re going to be having some anyway, I guess, why not. Go for it.”

 

“Hell _yeah._ ” Finally, the corkscrew manages to get the bottle open, and Taako casually casts a mage hand behind him without so much as a glance, letting it do the hard work of retrieving wine glasses from the adjacent cabinets. “And hey, trust me, this is gonna make that whole ‘chat about a bunch of mystery deaths’ business _way_ easier. Let some of that alcoholic lubricant get the conversation-wheels a-turnin, right?”

 

“I mean- theoretically. I don’t think alcohol works like that in this body, to be honest with you.”

 

For a second, it looks like the elf _pouts_ at that while he carries over the bottle and glasses, grabbing the basket of baked goods on the way for good measure. “Really? _Shame_. You seem like you’d be a fun drunk.” Before Kravitz has much time to consider, Taako plunks the wine glasses down, unceremoniously, on the coffee table, gesticulating towards the reaper in a way he interprets as an invitation to sit back down. He does so wordlessly, resuming what he hopes is his professional-yet-relaxed position, and assumes the elf will likely take a seat on the other end of the couch.

 

Taako flops down directly next to him instead, close enough that one knee brushes Kravitz's and his face leans in well beyond generally accepted parameters of “personal space”.

 

The reaper screams internally, takes what feels like a long moment to collect himself, and finally concludes that, really, he shouldn't have expected anything less than this.

 

“You _gotta_ try these fuckin’ goodies too, m’man,” the elf drawls, setting the basket down on the table between them, turning his attention to filling their wine glasses. “No joke, this is some _good_ stuff, and like, I don’t- I don’t give out that kinda praise lightly, you know? Like, that witch fuckin’ knows her stuff- don’t, uh, listen, don’t worry about that though, like, she’s cool, she’s a cool witch, totally un-cursed baked goods here. Cross my heart, dude.”

 

“Sure,” is all Kravitz can manage in reply. It’s going to make this conversation go a _lot_ smoother, he’s realizing, if he questions things as little as possible.

 

Taako grins back, and next thing Kravitz knows a wine glass has been shoved into one of his hands, a mage hand placing a pastry in his other, then darting back to drop another in Taako’s free palm as he leans back with his own drink. He settles into the back of the couch, absolutely sprawled out, his entire right leg now flush against Kravitz’s left (and apparently he simply does not care about how his skirt is bunching up around his thighs _Kravitz what the actual_ fuck _stop staring at his_ thighs _for the love of--_ ).

 

A long sip of wine, a lazy grin at the grim _fucking_ reaper on his couch. “ _So._ Where to start.”

 

“At the very beginning, ideally.”

 

“Gotcha. So, I was born back in New Elfington-”

 

“Oh for fuck’s _sake_.”

 

The elf snorts, grin impossibly widening. “Kidding, _kidding!_ Boy, if you could see your face right now, hot stuff.” He (thank _goodness_ ) glances away to adjust his position, sitting more upright, while Kravitz calms his surely flustered expression. “Hm, seriously though, this could… this could be tricky. Lemme, uh, lemme run something off ya real quick.” He makes direct eye contact with the reaper now, looking much more serious than he would have expected, and states, “I work for the Bureau of Balance.”

 

Kravitz blinks. “I- okay.”

 

“Did that work? Any static for you there?”

 

“I- no? Should- should there have been-?”

 

And Taako visibly relaxes again, leaning back and beaming. “ _Tight_ . Okay, cool, this is helpful. Guess I shoulda figured, you’re, uh, you bein’ sorta _dead_ or _un_ dead or however you call it. Yeah, uh, if you were, like- if you were _from_ this plane you’d be hearin’ nothin’ there. But you’re not, so you’re not, so we’re good.”

 

“...That’s. I- okay, okay, yes, sure.” Minimal questions, Kravitz, remember that. Minimal questions. Stay on topic.

 

“Cool. Ok, so, like, good as place as any to start with, I guess-” the wizard pauses to take a bite of his pastry, then uses that hand to gesticulate grandly at their general surroundings, continuing through a half-chewed mouthful of scone. “This whole fuckin’- deal happening up here? This is the Bureau of Balance. Whole secret moon base full o’ like- world-savers n’ shit, like, c’mon, how fuckin’ tight is that.”

 

“I- yes. Yes, very.” He hesitates a second, glancing between the elf, his glass of wine in one hand, his own untouched scone in the other, wondering how his life came to this. “Very… tight.”

 

Taako bursts into laughter so hard he practically doubles over, wine sloshing around dangerously in his glass. “ _Hooooly_ fuckin’- fuck’s sake, dude, you can’t-- _hoo_ , fuckin’, just hearin’ the word ‘tight’ come outta your straight-laced fuckin’- suit-wearin’ face, man, I-” and the laughter kicks back into high gear, to the point that he can’t even get another word out between his giggles.

 

Kravitz inhales, slowly, deeply, and takes a long sip of wine.

  
It’s actually pretty good wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted their conversation to be all one chapter but, as you all have probably observed by now, this fic has had a way of completely getting away from me, so now you get two chapters of these shenanigans


	3. The Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Taako has A Moment, Kravitz gets increasingly gay, and I turn this fic into an elaborate excuse to discuss Kravitz headcanons

By the time he lowers his glass again, Taako has mostly regained his composure, though the last few jolts of laughter quake his shoulders slightly. “Fuckin’- all right, yeah, where was I. Right, Bureau of Balance. Yeah, so there’s these, uh- basically we just, uh, they find shit that makes the world get all fucky, and, um, ya three homeboys here run down planet-side and like, un-fuck things right up. Pretty sweet gig, yeah?”

 

The reaper blinks. This- actually explains a lot about the trio’s general activity, surprisingly enough. “Yes. Um. Yeah. So, would I be right to assume this, um… _gig_ is why you all went to Refuge?”

 

“Got it in one.” And the elf _winks_ at him, which shakes him enough that he momentarily forgets _everything_ they’ve just talked about; it’s only by a stroke of sheer luck that Taako continues without intervention. “Yeah, so, we get this call earlier today- think it was earlier today? Fuck, it’s been a hell of a day, my man.” He stops to down the rest of his drink in one go, and finishes off the scone just after, seemingly only to give himself a free hand to pour a second glass.

 

Kravitz takes a moment in the pause to nibble at his own pastry. _Damn_. It is a really good scone.

 

His opinion on the baked goods apparently comes through in his expression, because he sees Taako’s grin brighten from the corner of his eyes. “See, good shit, right? Wouldn’t offer ya anything less, bone boy. Though, fuck, if you think _that’s_ good, you would flip your fucking spectral lid over my recipe-”

 

That catches the reaper’s attention, eyebrows raising slightly with interest - he’s not sure he would have pegged Taako for the baking type - and he’s surprised to find the elf, for the first time that night, appears to be biting his tongue. Like that, of all things, was what he wished he hadn’t said, gaze averted and expression suddenly tight, restrained.

 

 _Curious_.

 

He’s about to ask what’s wrong (because, well, Kravitz is only _physically_ heartless, and he’d be lying through his teeth to say the sudden change in demeanor didn’t concern him a bit), but Taako’s downing half his second glass of wine and turning back with his standard grin before he can say a word. “Anyway! Yeah, boss-lady sends us off down to Refuge to collect the- well, um, we call ‘em the fuckin, the _Relics_ , y’know, buncha... old-ass wizard deals that all these rubes keep findin’ and usin’ to screw shit right up- oh, _oh_ , the rock!” He’s practically bouncing now, again sending what’s left of his wine sloshing about dangerously, crowding impossibly farther into Kravitz’s personal space. “Yeah, yeah, you were around for the last one! With all the crystals and whatnot, you remember?”

 

“I-” oh sweet _hell_ he is right up in his face now this is making it _very_ hard to concentrate- “Y-yes, I certainly remember the crystals. Spent quite a bit of time in and and out of them, if you reca--”

 

And then he absolutely _freezes_ because Taako has gone and propped an elbow up on his shoulder, a long fingernail prodding lightly at the edge of his ear. “ _Oooh._ Hey, I’m listening, my dude, no worries, like, you can keep goin’, I just didn’t get a good look at these last time. Probably ‘cause you only stayed handsome for like, five minutes, which, frankly? Not enough. But anyway, yeah, didn’t even notice your li’l baby points back here, you an elf, my man? Or, I guess, _were_ you an elf? Fuck, I dunno how that shit works.”

 

Kravitz is unable to so much as _begin_ articulating a response. Holy shit. Taako is- Taako is very, very close. Taako is very, very warm. _None of this is appropriate business meeting conduct_.

 

His dumbfounded silence must last just long enough that even _Taako_ takes notice, because the elf finally leans back enough to glance at his face, then, promptly, a little further out of his personal space (Kravitz tries _very_ hard to convince himself that this is a relief, but all he can muster up is mild disappointment). “Hey, uh, earth to Kravitz, did I break you that easy, dude?” He chuckles, but it’s an uncharacteristically awkward, uneasy sound. “I mean, uh, no hard feelings if you’re just, like, not a touchy-feely dude, guess it’d be kinda weird if you were, like, bein’ a fuckin- bounty hunter for hell jail or whatever your job is-”

 

“My great-grandmother was Drow,” he finally manages, the words slipping out of his mouth before he even registers them, visibly taking both parties by surprise. “I’m- uh- the rest of my family’s human, or, uh, half-elf, some of them. I guess I, uh. Took after her a lot, um, genetically speaking.”

 

Another long, stretched, uncomfortable silence. Kravitz takes the opportunity to finish his glass of wine, silently wishing it still had any real effect on his manufactured body.

 

“Cool,” Taako finally answers, softer than normal, and when the reaper finally dares a glance back at him he’s grinning again, less exaggerated - _relieved_ , maybe? “Cool. Drow, yeah, I can see that. So that’s, uh- this is kinda what you? Look like? Looked like?” His head tilts quizzically to one side, ears akimbo, and Kravitz gets the impression that he’s… honestly curious. Wants to know more about him.

 

“I…” Well, what the hell, he’d already started on this whole path, hadn’t he? “Y-yes, I- this body is um, it’s pretty close to how I looked when I was, well. When I was living. Didn’t, um, feel any real pressing need to change much of anything.”

 

“Don’t blame you.” And Taako’s _blatantly_ giving him a thorough once-over on that, eyes roaming shamelessly up and down the flesh-construct. Desperate not to think too hard about that, the reaper distracts himself taking another few bites from what remains of his scone. “You must have been gettin’ all _kinds_ of tail before you died, my man.”

 

Kravitz chokes. The wizard snorts with laughter, downs what’s left of his wine, and takes the opportunity to refill both their glasses.

 

“Fuck, dude, your fucking _face_! Nah, nah, for reals, though, what can I say? You’re a pretty dude, them’s just facts, my man. Certainly must have had your choice of- um, uh, well. Of whatever it is you’re into. Don’t, uh, don’t want to presume.” A pause, a cautious sip of wine, and then he glances back up at the reaper through thick lashes, ears pinned back uncertainly. “...Ladies?”

 

Forcing down the bite of scone with a gulp of wine, Kravitz blinks at that last addition, more than a little confused. “U-um. I. No, not, um- not usually?”

 

Taako _grins_. Not in the way he’s been grinning most of the night, but sudden, _excited_ , unrehearsed, and the pleasantness of that unguarded smile strikes Kravitz approximately two seconds before the realization that, oh, _oh_ , he’s pretty sure that was a subtle way of asking him _if he’s interested in men_.

 

 _Oh_. Oh fuck, oh _fuck_ , is Taako. Is Taako actually _hitting on him_ right now? In the middle of this very serious conversation about a very serious matter that he was sent to very seriously investigate by the _goddess of death,_ was this fucking elf wizard, with a bounty of nineteen deaths on his head, _flirting_ with the fucking grim reaper that had infiltrated his home? Was it some kind of deliberate ploy to get Kravitz’s guard down or was he actually, honestly, legitimately _flirting_ with a fucking agent of the Raven Queen? How the _fuck_ was he supposed to respond to this he hadn’t flirted with someone in so long _Kravitz why in the fresh fucking_ fuck _are you thinking of flirting back_ you are on a job right now Kravitz--

 

“We’ve gotten off topic,” he finally manages. There is no real conviction in his voice, he’s certain of that, and he’s pretty sure his body language is currently that of a particularly anxious marble statue. He finishes off his glass, the motion almost robotic, and tries very hard not to stare at the elf in front of him.

 

Said elf pouts again, rolling his eyes, taking another sip of wine. “ _Ugh_. Fine, sure, things were just startin’ to get fun here, but whatever. Where was I?”

 

“I, um- you speaking about… ‘relics’, I believe. You mentioned the Miller lab.”

 

“Right, right.” He leans forward to refill Kravitz’s glass as he continues, “so uh, like, all that crystal and shit at the lab? All one of those relics. Some kinda fuckin’... powerful-ass transmutation bullshit, but like, it just looked like a _rock_. Not even, like, a cute rock, a fancy fuckin’ gemstone-lookin rock, somethin’ I could, you know, work with-” He gestures grandly across his whole body, drawing notice to his multiple accessories (even more than the reaper had noticed originally; three piercings in each pointed ear, a purely excessive amount of rings and bracelets, two necklaces under the pendant with his stone of far speech and _holy shit was that a fucking_ navel _piercing_ )- “no, just a fuckin’, just a fuckin’ nothing rock. Boring-ass dumb grey rock that just like… just lets you turn shit into other shit. I mean, _better_ shit, obviously, like, that pink tourmaline was _way_ better than all that boring floating lab nonsense-”

 

“We’re rapidly veering off-topic again.”

 

Taako rolls his eyes again in reply, petulantly sticking his tongue out at the reaper (he should be offended, but is instead finding, much to his chagrin, that he’s... kind of _into_ it). “ _Whatever_ , Mr. No-Fun McFuckYou. Anyway, uh, yeah, so another one of these relics turns up in Refuge, we all head down to pull some reclaimin’-” ah, so _that’s_ where the name came from- “and this fuckin’, this whole place is in like- this big-ass bubble? Like, can’t see in, can’t _get_ in, guessin’ probably couldn’t get out either. Our boy Avi had to rig up this, like, Jaeger cannon to fuckin’... shoot us in at terminal fuckin’ velocity. Honestly surprised we didn’t- or, wait, uh, maybe, maybe we did, d’ya know if that counted as one of our deaths?”

 

“I don’t. I’m actually _specifically_ here to find that out, if you’ll recall.”

 

“Man, this was way more fun when you were all stammer-y. Drink some more wine, dude.” Kravitz rolls his eyes, but obliges him with another sip of his refilled glass, catching the elf smirking as he does. “So yeah, uh, we get shot into this bubble, which- oh shit, oh, oh yeah, may be important to note- the bubble was apparently made? Out of time? Or somethin’ like that.”

 

Kravitz sputters, lowering his drink abruptly in surprise. “Made out o- p-please elaborate on that.”

 

“ _There_ we go,” Taako grins, continuing with only the slightest withering look from the reaper. “Yeah, yeah, I almost forgot about that. So, uh, this relic we went after- the fuckin, uh, temporal chalice, I think they called it- it, uh- well, I mean, fuckin’ _guess_ , my man. It fucks with time.” Another sip of his own wine, then, “yeah, so this fuckin’ wizard cup ends up in this itty-bitty little nowhere desert town - had some folks tellin’ us this whole legend about the dudes who brought the cup in and ‘protected Refuge’ and some other fairy-tale bullshit like that - and, uh, town ends up all time bubble-y. So we get in there, right, we go around, meet some folks, get thrown in jail by this, like, bird ridin’ around on a clay golem - well fuck, guess when I say that now it’s not that long a story - see this, uh, there’s a bar fight, and an earthquake, and a bank robbery, all this crazy shit. Then, uh, then clock strikes noon, suddenly the whole fuckin’ town’s just _decimated_ and we, uh, everyone’s straight boned, my dude.”

 

“You died,” Kravitz fills in quickly, automatically, dots beginning to connect. “Everyone in _town_ died.”

 

“On the nose, m’man. Then we’re in, like, this empty white plane, and it’s just ya three boys and this old-ass lady holding the goblet of time-fuckery, and like, next thing we know, we’re right back at the entrance of town. Day started all over again.”

 

Slowly, deliberately, the reaper places what’s left of his wine and scone on the coffee table, eyes locked on the elf, who looks… slightly unnerved by the action, ears pinning back and eyes widening slightly with caution. “You’re telling me,” he begins, each syllable drawn-out and pronounced as he slowly begins to process all that’s been said, “that this relic you found in Refuge was enclosing the town in a never-ending _time loop._ ”

 

“Uh.” The wizard looks significantly less self-assured than he has been, drawing ever-so-slightly back from the bounty hunter. “I mean, uh, I wouldn’t say _never-ending_ , we kinda, uh, it _is_ ended, like, at this very moment. But, uh, yeah, that’s, you pretty much got the rest of it.”

 

Now it’s Kravitz’s turn to lean into the other’s personal space, gaze unblinking, intense. “ _Taako_ . I don’t think I should have to tell you that something with that kind of power absolutely, without question, needs to be _destroyed_.”

 

“Oh, fuck yeah, dude. No worries, that shit’s all done ‘n handled.”

 

And he blinks, drawing back again, abruptly returning to feeling a half-step behind and deeply, deeply lost. “I- what?”

 

“Yeah, homie! What, you thought we just- you think we’re just gonna _leave_ that kinda shit lying around up here? Where we _live_??” He laughs, like the very thought of that is _ridiculous_ , and Kravitz feels a mage hand deposit the wine glass back in his left palm. “Nah, _nah_ , dude, that’s, like, our whole deal. Nerds up here find it, Tres Horny Boys pick it up, hand it over, boss destroys it. Keepin’ all these crazy fuckshow powers outta the wrong hands and all, right? Like, ‘no one person should have all this power’ or somethin’ like that.”

 

All Kravitz can do for a few moments is resume his (increasingly default) expression of confusion and disbelief. “I- okay. All right, okay, that. That changes a lot of things, actually.”

 

And Taako is back to grinning, like it’s the easiest thing in the world for him to do. “Hell _yeah_. Guess, uh, guess I shoulda led with that one, right?” He finishes off his drink, and rather than refilling it immediately as he’s done previously, fiddles with the glass a moment. “So is that, like- are we... off the hook, then?”

 

“I mean- there’s still thousands of deaths to be accounted for here. Including your own.” He leans over and retrieves the rest of his scone as he says this, because, like, he’s trying to keep some kind of professional air here, but also _damn_ those scones are good. “But I, um. To level with you a bit, this is some _unprecedented_ information you’re giving us. As you may have guessed, we’ve never had to deal with something of this- this sheer _scale_ before. Without a doubt, the approach we take here is going to have to be, um- outside policy, as it were.”

 

The elf considers a long, long moment, before he finally smiles wide yet again, retrieving the wine bottle to pour yet another glass. “I can work with ‘outside policy’. In fact, that’s, uh, that’s kinda my, my whole jam.”

 

“I’ve noticed.” He means it to be more biting, sarcastic, but he can’t stop the corners of his lips from turning upwards and the jab comes out almost _affectionate_. Taako, in turn, replies only with his standard shit-eating grin and another wink.

 

(If he had an actual heart, it would have skipped a beat. _Kravitz holy_ shit _can you_ not _right now._ He returns his attention to the scone as a distraction, finishing the last few bites in a flash.)

 

“So, uh- what’s next steps gonna be here, my guy?” The elf inquires, almost lazily, leaning back against the couch in an excessively relaxed position, taking a long, slow drink from his glass. “Like, um, I feel like I’ve given you, uh- most of the information that’s relevant to you? I mean, I can tell you all _kinds_ of shit if you want, there have been _events_ in this li’l desert town, lemme tell you. We had, like, a fuckin’ minecart chase with a purple worm, we got these baked goods and some wacky-ass visions from that witch, robbed a bank this one time, uh, Magnus blew us up in a mine a bunch of times, met a fuckin’ _lovely_ loyal fan-”

 

“I’m sorry- _fan_?” Kravitz can’t help but crack a smile at that - it’s so _presumptuous_ and so very, very _Taako_ , referring to someone as a _fan_. “I’m- you have _fans?_ ”

 

“ _Fuck_ yeah, homie!” The elf cackles back, leaning forward in a way that he’d see as a _challenge_ if he weren’t grinning ecstatically ear-to-ear. “What, are you _kidding_? I’ve got-”

 

And abruptly he stops, the grin is gone, just as before, that look of _restraint_ and _regret_ coming over the wizard. The change in mood is so severe Kravitz almost gets whiplash from it, his own smile vanishing as quick as it came. “Had. I had fans,” Taako corrects himself after a moment, and he’s grinning again, but empty, forced, rehearsed.

 

“Could- m-might I ask you what’s wrong?”

 

“Nope.”

 

And the answer is so automatic, immediate, _blunt_ that Kravitz reels a bit again, staring down at his hands in his sudden nervousness. “I- all right, yeah, that’s- that’s fair. Sorry- I’m certainly not here to press into, uh, press into personal matters.”

 

And for a few moments there’s a heavy silence, him awkwardly sipping what’s left of his wine, Taako looking silent, still at a point just slightly past him. “...figured, uh.” The elf hesitates, clears his throat, looks even more pointedly away. “Figured all that kinda stuff would, like. Would be in that big ol’ death crimes book of yours.”

 

The reaper blinks at that. “I- it really doesn’t contain any- any especially _personal_ details about bounties. Just, um, just some basic information and details on any necromantic crimes. So I, um, unless whatever’s on your mind is, uh, is a necromantic crime, I wouldn’t have-”

 

“Nah, nah, homie.” Somehow that’s gotten a chuckle out of him; the elf looks ever-so-slightly more at ease now. “Nothin’ like that, I mean, fuck, aside from these last few, I don’t even know what I did to get in your book in the first place. And, like- lemme put it this way- this thing right now is, like, you’re gonna have to go up a few friendship levels with ol’ Taako before we, uh, before you start gettin’ into ‘tragic backstory’ territory, ya feel? Although, like-” another snort of laughter, and he glances down at his wine with a gradually widening smirk. “To be, uh, to level with ya a little bit here, I’m like, I’m kinda startin’ to feel this wine. So, uh, so if we keep this up, I guess that could speed up the whole ‘opening up’ process a bit, if you’re, like, if you’re into that.”

 

At that offhand comment, he spares a glance to his glass, then Taako’s, then the wine bottle on the table, which looks to be practically empty by this point. “Oh. Oh wow, uh. I. I probably should have - we should not have introduced alcohol to this conversation, I’m realizing.”

 

“Nah, dude, it’s cool, it’s good, no worries.”

 

“No, it’s, uh. Look, I- I basically just broke into your house and got you drunk, so that, um, I think you can understand if I’m a little less than thrilled about that.”

 

“Gonna look bad on your performance review.”

 

“Yes, it _absolutely_ is.”

 

Another snort of laughter from the elf, and he leans in close again, having fully resumed his easy, lazy smirk. “Dude, seriously, it’s all good. I’m not fuckin’ _wasted_ , I’m like, barely tipsy. Cha’boy knows his limits. Man, how long has it been since you’ve gotten drunk? Must’ve been a while, if you’re gettin’ worried about, what, three glasses of wine?”

 

“I-” Okay, so it _had_ been a long time, sue him. Not his fault alcohol stopped having the intended effects after death. “You’re also- I doubt you weigh nearly as much as me- or as I, as I _did_ , I guess, I don’t- I-I think I have a right to be concerned here.”

 

“ _Cute_.” And he says that so easily, so honestly, taking another sip of wine without a care in the world, that Kravitz swears he feels his dead heart _swell_.

 

Or, actually, no, wait. That’s. That’s for real. That tug in his chest again -this time, less sharp, less frantic, but still. There for real. The Raven Queen is calling.

 

“I-” And his brow furrows as he sets his wine glass back down, wondering how to properly articulate this. “Something’s come up. I- I’m needed on the Astral plane.”

 

To his surprise, Taako looks- well, _disappointed_ at that. “Oh. Well, um, I- yeah, okay. Geez, just when things were leaning back towards _fun_ , too.” Fidgeting with his glass again, he hesitates a second before glancing up and adding, “So are we- are we good then? Like, we don’t have to worry about you turning up to take us to hell jail or whatever-”

 

“I mean- as I said, there’s still a lot we need to discuss,” the reaper admits, running a hand over the back of his neck. “Thousands of deaths needing to be accounted for and all. But no, um, no, you don’t have to worry about any, uh- about any reaping until we’ve worked all that out.”

 

Taako relaxes, though the reaper can’t help but note the lingering look of disappointment on the elf’s features. “Yeah, alright, homie, fair enough. I can work with that.” He leans back against the couch again, toying with one of his necklaces as he does, inadvertently drawing his attention to-

 

Kravitz knows what he is about to do is a very, very bad idea, logistically speaking. He tries to convince himself that he’s just doing what he needs to do for this particular job, that this is strictly a business decision.

 

(He knows, deep down, that he is doing this much, much more for _personal reasons_.)

 

“Let me, um- I can sync up our stones of farspeech,” he offers clumsily, fishing his own pendant out of the pocket of his suit jacket. “So I can- so I can schedule a follow-up meeting. To, uh, to continue this discussion. At some point.”

 

The elf simply stares at the stone for a moment, eyes wide - surprised, he realizes, like he hadn’t once expected this to be a possibility in their conversation. And then he grins, that unabashed, unpracticed grin from earlier (when Kravitz inadvertently let on that he was, in fact, not particularly straight, and _fuck_ is he trying really hard not to read into the circumstances around these particular smiles). “ _Yeah._ Yeah, dude, _hell_ yeah, let’s- hook me up with them digits.”

 

And with that he’s pulled his own stone of farspeech from around his neck, lifting it to Kravitz’s almost _eagerly_ , both stones glowing ever-so-slightly as the frequencies sync up. (And their hands are so close, cradling the individual stones, that their knuckles nearly brush against each other, and he is trying _really fucking hard_ not to dwell on that but he can feel the living _heat_ off of Taako’s skin--) Another moment, and there’s a soft, melodic _ding_ as the sync completes, both parties retracting their hands. Kravitz tucks the pendant back into his pocket, whereas Taako… almost clutches his against his chest, like he’s _treasuring_ it (don’t read into it Kravitz _don’t read into it_ ).

 

“...Well then.” He stands, hands clasped awkwardly in front of him; the subtle _tug_ in his chest is continuing, has this whole time, but somehow he finds himself… reluctant to leave. “I, um. Thank you for all your, um. For your cooperation thus far, I suppose. And, um, a-and for the, uh, wine and everything. It was-” his voice catches a moment, he’s not sure why, and he can’t help but nervously avert his gaze as he adds, quietly, “it was nice.”

 

“ _Oh!_ ” He glances up just in time to see Taako _vault_ over the coffee table, holding one finger up frantically in the universal gesture for ‘wait just a fucking minute’ as he scrambles back to the kitchen. Kravitz barely has time to blink in confusion, turn his gaze and attempt to follow the elf’s movement, before he’s back and suddenly a _whole_ bunch of shit is being shoved into the reaper’s arms.

 

He glances down. A neatly tied, worn, patterned cloth napkin, in which an _absurd_ amount of scones and muffins and cookies have been bundled, and an unopened bottle of wine.

 

He glances back up, probably more perplexed than he’s been all night, and Taako is beaming like this is the best fuckin’ idea he’s ever had. “Some, uh, some goodies for the road for ya, my man. Figure, like, probably not a ton in the way of home comforts back in ghost town. Especially not anything as fuckin’ _bomb_ as those scones.”

 

For a long moment he can only manage a slow, befuddled blink in reply. “Oh. I, um. Oh. O-okay, I. Th-thanks. You sure?”

 

“Hell yeah, man. Frankly, I think Maggie ‘n Merle would be suspicious if it looked like I only got through _one_ bottle of wine tonight, so really, you’d be savin’ my ass here.” He chuckles at his own joke, though the noise is slightly off, slightly forced, and the elf’s gaze nervously drops to the side, rubbing his arm with the hand that’s not still clutching the stone of farspeech. “So um. You’ll- you’ll call me? Set up that, uh, that follow-up?”

 

He’s peering up at Kravitz, eyes barely clearing the brim of his floppy hat, and for a hot second he reads the wizard’s tone as _hopeful_ before he tries to banish the very thought from his mind.

 

“Y… yes, I. I will. As soon as things calm down a bit on the Astral plane, I’ll be in touch.” Another grin, that quick, unrehearsed one, and Kravitz finally forces himself to turn to leave (because if he doesn’t and looks too long at one of those _perfect_ smiles he’s pretty sure he’s going to do something _impossibly_ stupid, like _make a move_ or something.)

 

The scythe appears in his free hand effortlessly, carving a portal into the room before him - and it’s only after he does so that it occurs to him that, well, the mental effort of creating an interplanar portal tends to interrupt that of maintaining a corporeal flesh-body, and now he’s transformed in small wisps of soul-fire back to a (rather well-dressed) skeleton. Anxiety balling up in his now completely-nonexistent stomach, he risks a glimpse over his shoulder, expecting to have thoroughly startled the wizard with his… well, his _not-_ handsome form.

 

Taako looks absolutely _thrilled to bits_. What the _fuck_.

 

“I-” And he stops pretty much as soon as he’s started, because, what the fuck is he even trying to say as this weird-ass excuse for a business meeting draws to a close? _I had a nice time? Thanks for not murdering me after I broke into your house? I’m not normally this fucking incoherent I swear I’m good at my job? Thanks for the scones? Hey are you like_ into _skeletons or something because holy shit it feels like you’re checking me out right now??_

  
“We’ll talk soon,” he finally manages, nerves making him sound much more terse and _much_ less confident than he’d like, and steps through the portal.

  
Taako replies only with a shit-eating grin and the flirtiest fucking wave goodbye Kravitz has ever seen, and that’s the last the reaper catches as he disappears fully back into the Astral plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen I know this is right after Refuge where Taako realized the whole thing in Glamour Springs _technically_ wasn't his fault but like, I figure it would take him more than one expanded flashback revelation to overcome years of trauma
> 
> anyway this is it for what I've had written in advance, but I should have chapters four and five up hopefully very soon!! hope y'all are enjoying this so far, hit me up here or @anonymouspuzzler on tumblr if you want


	4. The Debriefing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY WOW it's been a minute and I'm real sorry about that but chapter 4 is finally here!! A little shorter and possibly a little slower, but there's a lot of Kravitz being Too Gay To Function so hopefully it's a good read. Thanks so much to all of y'all for waiting so long for this one!!

It’s probably strange that Kravitz has come to think of the Astral plane as “home”, but regardless, he has. Really, it’s rather peaceful; beautiful, even, once you’ve had time to get over the whole _being dead_ bit. He finds comfort in it, has since his very last moments of life, and stepping back over from the Material plane immediately lifts some of the anxious weight from his shoulders.

Then he glimpses the bundle of baked goods and wine in his arms again, and the metaphorical butterflies return to his metaphorical stomach.

He sets both down on his desk next to his half-finished paperwork, and takes a long moment to steady himself before heading off to the Raven Queen.

This time, she’s still bustling about when he arrives, finishing conversations with a few other spirits that dart off promptly after. When she turns and catches sight of him a moment later, she seems to settle somewhat, beak twisting into what resembles a smirk. “Glad to see you made it back in one piece. Hope I didn’t… _interrupt_ anything.”

The teasing tone in her voice causes him to pause for another unnecessary breath before he answers. “No, we were- we were about finished when you called.” Her smirk widens into an ecstatic grin, and he adds, a bit too quickly, a _lot_ too exasperatedly, “With our _conversation_.”

She crows with laughter, fluttering to her perch in front of the stained glass window. “ _Sure_ , sure. So did you get any good info from that _conversation?_ We’ve got stories from a few different sources, now, so we’ve gotta start comparing and make sure everything tracks.”

Kravitz nods, a soft hum forming in the back of his throat as he ran through what he’d learned. For the love of _fuck,_ had he _learned_ some shit. Where to even start.

_“...well.”_ Another brief pause as he considers. “...If the information I gathered is to be trusted, _apparently_ Refuge has been trapped in a time loop for the past seven years. Some sort of… interference from a powerful arcanic item.”

The Raven Queen nods, staring somewhere just past the reaper. “Yep, that’s what we heard from the Refuge souls too. And I from Lady Istus. Apparently your boys disrupted and recovered the artifact, and that gave her the chance to catch their timeline back up and bring down the time-barrier around town. Which, it seems safe to say, is why we suddenly had seven years’ worth of arriving souls and unresolved bounties today.”

“Safe to say,” he agrees. Lady Istus returning the town to its proper state in time was… reassuring, so far as the natural order was concerned. But he still couldn’t help but be shaken by the sheer _power_ that relic had held, enough that even the _Goddess of Fate_ couldn’t overcome it on her own…

The Raven Queen appears to be thinking much the same thing; when she turns back to him, her expression is rigid, feathers anxiously bristled. “Kravitz. Did they… was he still in possession of the artifact when you found him…?”

Kravitz is suddenly very, _very_ grateful that Taako hadn’t been stupid enough to try and keep the Chalice. (Why? Because he’s afraid it would reflect badly on him? Or because the idea of having to hunt Taako down makes his stomach sink? He decides it’s better that he not think about it.) “It’s been destroyed,” he replies, certain relief is evident in his tone. “Apparently that’s, uh… that’s their whole, um, deal, those three. Recovering powerful magic artifacts in order to, ah, to remove them from the equation. Stop apocalypses and all.”

The Queen visibly relaxes at that, feathers settling back into place and shoulders slouching in a silent sigh. “Good. Good, that tracks too. Istus insisted they had been acting as her agents even before she contracted them.”

The reaper nods unthinkingly at first, but then the words really hit him and it’s like fucking _whiplash._ “I’m-- sorry, _what?_ ” He sputters, feeling like he’s several steps behind for what must be the millionth time that day. “She- Lady Istus _contracted_ them?”

The Raven Queen responds with a quick, startled blink, looking about half as perplexed as Kravitz currently feels. “...yes. Sorry, are you- are you really telling me you went and spoke with this wizard about all the weird shit that he’s gotten into recently, and he didn’t happen to mention meeting and becoming an emissary of a _fucking_ goddess?”

The most he can manage to respond with is a long, slow, sharp breath through his nose, followed by a strained, “He did not.” It was _infuriating_ just how much this was… well, _completely_ in-character for Taako. Like, of course. Of _course_ he would recount an epic relic-hunting quest and a stint in jail and a baking witch and a _loyal fan,_ all while absolutely fucking forgetting _meeting a goddess._ That was fully, _utterly_ Taako.

(He hated it, except he didn’t. It kind of made his heart flutter a little bit, even with his head still spinning from the sheer _what the fuck_ -ness of this whole situation.)

“Oh, _Kravitz_ ,” his Queen half-sighs and half-hums, and when he glances up at her she looks equal parts sympathetic and _very_ amused. “My dearest Kravitz. You certainly know how to pick ‘em.”

“...sorry, pick _what?_ I didn’t pick-” The expression ratio shifts all the more into _amused,_ and he can’t stop a hot blush from rushing to his simulated face as he realizes the implication. “... _anyway._ What did, um- what did Lady Istus have to say, ah, about her… about her new wards?”

The Raven Queen gives him one last smirk, but the question is apparently enough to distract from her quest to embarrass the unlife out of him. “Well, as said, she insists they had been acting as her agents for some time now - which, seeing as they’ve apparently been trying to avert cataclysmic disasters, makes sense. Apparently, her meeting with them in Refuge was just to make the whole thing official. Granted them a few blessings, some advice, the whole shebang. You know how she works. And after they disrupted that artifact of theirs, she stepped in to help clean up the mess and return Refuge to its natural place in time.”

Kravitz nods, and briefly averts his gaze to the floor, letting his Goddess’ words sink in. “...so. Um. What… what does that mean for all the people who were there?” He finally asks, with enormous reluctance - it’s a question neither of them truly wants to ask, he realizes. No, not given this entire, messy, mind-boggling, rule-decimating situation they’ve all found themselves in. “There… there were _so_ many deaths, my Queen. An entire town full of the largest bounties we’ve ever seen.”

She keeps her gaze trained away from him, but he knows she’s listening, because her feathers rustle with a heavy breath. “...I’m aware. And you of all people know that we cannot, in good conscience, let such debts go off unpaid willy-nilly.” She takes another breath, long and slow, eyes sliding shut as she does. “...but. As you’re _also_ well aware, this is... an unprecedented situation. _Fuck,_ it’s the unprecedented situation of unprecedented situations. We’re dealing with arcanic powers beyond even the capability of the Pantheon itself. All of which was forced upon a town without its knowledge or consent. In many ways, this is… beyond our jurisdiction.”

All he can do is listen, silent and attentive, a lump in his metaphorical throat. He agrees, he’s out of his depth on this situation, reeling at every new piece of information and struggling to formulate a course of action that seems right in any way. But… but he’s merely a Reaper; a very old and experienced one, sure, but just a Reaper nonetheless. It’s _understandable_ , if not entirely expected, for him to be out of his depth. To not have the knowledge, the wisdom, the _power_ to make the decisions that needed to be made, and to make the _correct_ decisions.

The Raven Queen is not _supposed_ to be out of her depth. She isn’t _supposed_ to be faced with incomprehensible powers that surpass her own, let alone those of her and all her fellow Gods and Goddesses. She isn’t _supposed_ to encounter unprecedented situations when she has all her divine knowledge to guide her. Nothing is _supposed_ to be _beyond her jurisdiction._

Nothing is supposed to evade the judgement, the finality, the _universal_ nature of Death.

This... has.

It terrifies Kravitz.

It feels like eternities pass in silence, neither daring to speak, before his Queen finally shudders with a heavy sigh. “Istus has petitioned for the souls of Refuge to be exempted from the Eternal Stockade,” she begins, voice low and smooth and just a fraction quieter than a Goddess’ probably ought to be. “She has reasoned that their undeath was forced upon them, that there was technically no necromancy performed, and that she has corrected their timestream in order to ensure no further evasion of death occurs. Given the circumstances in this particular case, I am inclined to agree.”

She turns fully to Kravitz now, and he forces himself to a more attentive position, swallowing down his lingering nerves best he can. “We’ll be processing the recent arrivals from Refuge via normal protocols for a bounty-free soul. For the souls that currently remain alive, we’ll be converting their outstanding bounties into... something of a probation. Make certain an extra eye is kept on them, so none of them get any bright ideas about cheating death any more than they have already.”

She pauses another long moment, drawing in another heavy breath through her nostrils, before adding, “We’re led to believe a child named June was the one who actively used and controlled the artifact, albeit inadvertently and largely without her knowledge. _Technically,_ we could indict her as the guilty party and collect accordingly, but… given her age, and again, the… _unusual_ circumstances, I don’t see this as a productive course of action. We _will_ be placing her on full probation, though, to ensure she’s monitored for any future acts of necromancy. I trust you’ll inform the other Reapers accordingly.”

“Of course, my Queen,” he responds automatically, a slight bow as he has done hundreds, thousands of times before. This time, though, he lingers, chewing his lip with nervousness until he can no longer manage to hold his tongue. “And the… and the trio from the Miller lab…?”

She peers down at him, and for a long, silent, heart-stopping moment, he’s horrified he’s finally crossed some kind of line. “...Istus has declared that the three now fall under her protection,” she finally explains, voice having returned to its usual poise, rather than the previous uncharacteristic quiet. “As of today, we’ll be placing a hold on their bounties for their foreseeable future. Granted, we _will_ still be monitoring them for any especially unusual activity, and we _will_ be keeping them here in the Astral plane when their souls finally make it over. But there’s to be no further persecution of them for the time being.”

He can’t help but blink in surprise, staring wide-eyed up at his Goddess. “...Oh.” Then, softer, gaze averted to the floor, “oh.”

“I truly can’t tell if you’re relieved or disappointed, Kravitz.”

“I…” He fidgets nervously with the cuffs of his sleeves, keeping his eyes fixated on his feet, because really, he wasn’t certain either. What was he supposed to say? _Hey I guess that’s great, I would have been kind of super bummed if I had to hunt Taako down, but also I may have insisted I was going to set up a follow-up meeting, but there’s really no need if his bounty’s been frozen and honestly I was kind of super looking forward to having an excuse to see him again?_

When he finally risks a glance back up at the Raven Queen, she’s smirking again, like she knows something he doesn’t (which, to be fair, she almost certainly does, being a Goddess and all). “Oh, Kravitz, Kravitz, _Kravitz,_ ” she clucks, bangles jingling as she shakes her head ever-so-slightly. “My oldest, dearest Reaper. You’d think an eternity of practice would give you a better poker face.” Before he can reply, she leans forward, smirk ever-widening, and adds, “Your position _does_ allow you some free time, you know. Not to mention, you have the unique privilege of unrestricted travel to-and-from the Material plane. No one’s going to stop you from getting swept off your feet by a cute elf between jobs, least of all me.”

Kravitz sputters, all but phasing through the floor in his embarrassment, barely managing to (literally and figuratively) pull himself together enough to reply. “T-that’s not- I don’t-” Well, he’s clearly hit a new low of words failing him at this point, and he can’t even begin to fathom a way to turn this around, so he more or less gives up entirely instead, placing his head in his hands and whimpering, _“why.”_

His Queen simply crows once with laughter, sharp and echoing through the room, fluttering slightly as she rights herself back on her perch. “Beats me. You were a gay mess _long_ before I got to you, Kravitz.”

All he can manage in reply is a deeper blush and a quiet whine of embarrassment.

She cackles again, and though his face is still hidden behind his hands, he can hear the distinct clattering of her bangles and beads as she glides across the room, landing just past him near the doorway. “Alright, enough of that, now. You’ll have plenty of time to keep being a gay mess later. Right now, I need you to make sure the other Reapers are informed of the adjusted bounties. Oh, and be a dear and make sure the paperwork is handed off to the appropriate departments for processing, would you?”

He takes a deep breath to try and steady his voice, and (mostly) manages. “Of course, my Queen,” he replies, smooth and practiced despite the slight crack in his voice midway through, the bow practically muscle memory after all his centuries of service. And just like always, by the time he raises back up to his full height, she’s nowhere to be seen without even a hint of a noise.

He spends another few moments gathering his wits before he follows suit and exits, hoping beyond hope that his apparent status as a “gay mess” hasn’t been picked up on by anyone besides his Queen.

(He knows, deep down, that it’s a futile hope. Him being a little bit of a mess is, frankly, an obvious and indisputable fact.)

(...maybe the others won’t catch on that it’s specifically because of _Taako,_ though.)

 

* * *

 

It’s been a few days since his meeting with Taako, he figures. Or maybe it’s been a week. Maybe two. He is _really_ bad with Material plane time.

Regardless. It’s been some time.

All things considered, things are about normal in the Astral plane - souls being processed, bounties being hunted down, the Eternal Stockade being patrolled, paperwork being filed. All the usual business. Although, granted, several of the departments are still a bit abuzz over the ruling on the record-breaking Refuge bounties. And sure, there’s been a vague sense of unease over the sheer _power_ of the Temporal Chalice. (He’s reiterated to the other staff, time and time again, that it’s been destroyed and no longer poses any kind of threat. But he still feels a chill in his bones thinking about it, too, so he supposes he can’t blame them.) And, yes, the last couple times he’s seen the Raven Queen there’s been a tension in her shoulders, a distant concentration in her eyes, that puts him _thoroughly_ on edge. But… well, work’s still gotta get done, regardless of the mood around the office. People don’t just stop dying, or, apparently, stop trying _not_ to die.

Normally, Kravitz is more-or-less content in this routine; the business of his work, darting between the planes hunting liches and necromancers and fugitive spirits, followed by the calming repetitiveness of paperwork and the brief pauses where he could simply… _exist_ in the Astral plane. But the past few - days? weeks? fuck it - _recently_ , he’d been experiencing more and more bouts of… _restlessness_ , for lack of a better word. Work had become a distraction rather than his focus, and the pauses between jobs seemed to stretch for _agonizing_ lengths of time. More than once, he’d found himself fishing his stone of farspeech from his pocket and just… holding it. Staring. The feeling of restlessness growing claustrophobic, an impulse itching at the back of his skull that he had to try desperately to repress.

He could just... call.

But he couldn’t. _No,_ no, he couldn’t. He _couldn’t!_ No matter what his deep, dark, secret hopes had been when he gave Taako his stone frequency, he had never made such feelings _public._ As far as Taako was aware, he reminded himself, he was only going to call to set up another meeting. A _meeting,_ Kravitz. A meeting for _work._ Not some flimsy excuse to spend some time with a cute boy who flirts like it’s going out of style.

And there’s nothing to meet _about._ Their bounties are frozen, the souls from Refuge have been vouched for, there’s nothing left for Taako to defend himself and his companions from. No need to spend any longer with a Grim Reaper than he needs to. (Because that’s how it _works,_ Kravitz, remember? People don’t just… _hang out_ with Death. They don’t hang out and they certainly don’t _flirt_ and there’s no way that was, like, _flirting_ flirting, and of course he’d misinterpret it because he’s been out of the dating scene for fucking _millennia_ and he wasn’t even good at it _then_.)

He can’t call Taako. He _can’t._ He _shouldn’t._

...He’s still staring at the stone in his palm.

He lets a heavy breath blow out from between pursed lips, slumping in his chair and dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling. This is _torture._ It’s torture, and he really fucking hopes he gets over it soon, because quite frankly he’s running out of distractions. Much as he’d like, he can’t be out on the job _constantly_ \- he doesn’t really _need_ food or sleep, not the way living beings do, but even the most stripped-down, no-frills form of his soul couldn’t go entirely without some form of rest. He’s completed every scrap of paperwork he could scrounge up. And he’s _long_ since finished off the bundle of pastries from his last meeting with Taako. (He may or may not have finished them in one sitting. They were _really_ fucking good. Shut up.)

There’s only so much more of this he can take before he does something drastic, impulsive, and utterly _stupid._

The stone in his palm suddenly glows and emits a soft, melodic chime.

He starts and all but chucks the stone across the room in a panic, dead heart practically leaping out of his mouth. What the _fuck._ It’s exceedingly, _exceedingly_ rare for anyone to contact him via the stone of farspeech; his Queen can pretty much summon him at will without a stone call, and the other Reapers only use it once in a blue moon, and even then, only when he’s off in the Material plane. Which, of course, he currently isn’t.

There’s really only one possibility that makes sense.

And _that,_ in a different way, doesn’t make sense.

Summoning every last pluck of courage he can, he answers, all but _praying to the Raven Queen herself_ that his panic doesn’t audibly seep through. “This is Kravitz.”

_“Aw, hell_ yeah _it is,”_ the slightly-grainy voice on the other end replies, and Kravitz practically falls straight backwards through the floor.

Holy everloving _shit._

“...Taako?” He questions, a part of him still not _quite_ able to believe it. “I don’t- i-is something wrong?” He’s struck, almost physically, by the possibility; why else would he call up the _Grim fucking Reaper,_ unless something had gone horribly, drastically wrong? A new artifact they couldn’t handle, a cult of liches, _something--_

He hears the elf laugh, light and hearty and almost musical, which snaps him out of his panicked speculations and back into the usual dumbfounded stupor. _“Nah, dude, I’m fine! Fine as_ hell! _What, you think I’m only gonna drop you a line when I’m fuckin’ dying or some shit?”_

“I… I mean. Most people would?”

_“Well, I’m not_ most people, _my fella,”_ he responds blithely, and Kravitz can practically _hear_ him wink. (How the fuck can you _hear_ someone _wink?_ How is Taako equally as flirty over a stone call as he is pressed up right against him on a couch? _Why is he thinking so much about Taako’s flirting why is he_ like _this??_ )

The reaper clears his throat, trying desperately to cling to _some_ measure of his calm, collected persona. “R-right. Of course. So, um, then… um. What might this be regarding, then?”

Another snort of laughter. _“_ Well, _Kravvy,_ someone _told me they were gonna be settin’ up another meeting real soon. And, uh, it’s been a minute, and you weren’t calling, and I was startin’ to get bored, so I figured, hey, fuck it! I’ll do it my damn self if I have to. Which, hey, listen- just to be clear- that is not the Taako M.O. Taako lets other people do the hard work for him. So, uh, guess what I’m sayin’ is, count yourself lucky here, handsome.”_

He blinks once, twice, three times, mouth slightly agape, before he finally manages an “Oh.” This was… not a situation he’d ever imagined ending up in. There _was_ no meeting to have, and he knew that, but _Taako_ didn’t, and Taako had called _him_ and _Taako_ wanted to see _him_ and _fuck Kravitz stop that he wants to have the_ meeting _he wants to make sure you’re not dragging him to hell anytime soon--_

Kravitz suddenly has a choice to make.

“I…” He feels impulsiveness flooding every nerve of his constructed body and, well, fuck, here comes a decision he’s definitely going to regret. “Yes. I’m, um, I’m sorry about that. Work, um, work got in the way and all.” _Fuck._ Technically, it’s not _exactly_ a lie, but. _Fuck._

Taako hums thoughtfully on the other end of the line. _“Yeah, you seem like the type to let that happen. All work and no play, you ever hear that ol’ thing, Kravvy?”_ He chuckles to himself again, and _oh boy_ something that small shouldn’t be making Kravitz’s dead heart flutter. _“Anyway, so listen- I’ve got some free time between training drills this week. Thinkin’, um, thinkin’ maybe Tuesday, ‘bout 5 o’clock-ish? You bring the handsome face, I bring the sparkling personality, we hash this whole thing out and - ideal scenario here - I don’t have to go to hell jail, and also, bonus, we have a fuckin’ baller time and I get to see you make that cute confused face again. You in?”_

The cautious, reserved part of him tries to bring up that Taako is attempting to set up a business meeting, one that _really_ no longer needs to exist; that Taako is just _like this_ and definitely not seriously flirting right now; that he really needs to proceed with caution here and focus on doing his _fucking_ job. That part of him, unfortunately, is being thoroughly drowned out by the rest of his brain, which has dedicated itself to screaming, doing backflips, blaring horns at full volume, or a combination of the three.

“...Well. Um,” he finally manages to squeak out, and it’s a small miracle that the crack in his voice isn’t more blatantly obvious. “Let me take a quick look at my schedule.”

And then he holds out the stone of farspeech with one hand and audibly rifles through the closest stack of paperwork with the other, not even _pretending_ to look through it, acutely aware that he must look _spectacularly_ stupid right now. “Oh, what luck. It looks like I can squeeze you i-” It takes the span of about three seconds for the double-entendre to hit Kravitz, for him to subsequently cut himself off, for him to desperately hope it slips by Taako, and for Taako to burst into hysteric laughter as it clearly _doesn’t_ slip by him. Excellent. _Fantastic_. Great work setting up this _business meeting_ without being a blatantly obvious gay mess, Kravitz. You’re doing a super job.

Several long moments later, during which Taako has cackled like a maniac and Kravitz has pondered the possibility of spontaneous combustion caused by sheer embarrassment, the wizard finally manages to gather himself. _“Well, uh- much as I ain’t opposed to you_ squeezin’ me in, _handsome-”_ Okay, Kravitz has to actually look down and check if he’s burst into flames with how hard he’s blushing at that - _“You, um- so you’re actually free, then? Like, in all seriousness, you can make it…?”_

Oh, boy, more talking. He sure hasn’t screwed that up so far. He takes a long, slow breath through his nose, and manages to stammer out, “I mean- I- i-it’s always possible something’s going to come up. Nature of the job and all. But, I- that is- I-I’ll do everything in my power to make it at that time. You have my word.”

_“Rad,”_ Taako replies, quiet, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say there was a hint of a smile in his voice. _“Alright, yeah, cool. It’s a date, then.”_

If Kravitz had still possessed a functioning heart, he imagines it would have stopped short at that. He’s desperately attempting to silence the blaring horns and screaming in his mind, frantically reminding himself that _he must mean that colloquially this isn’t a_ date _date there’s no way it is,_ when Taako adds, _“Tuesday, five o’ clock sharp, at the Chug ‘n Squeeze! Don’t forget, hot stuff!”_

“Of cou-” The words die in his throat, eyes closing in disbelief as he tries, and fails, to process the last bit of that statement. “...Taako. The- I don’t- you want me to meet you _where?_ ”

_“Wear something nice!”_ Is all the elf replies with before the line goes dead.

And he’s left right back where he started, slouched over his desk, staring down at the stone of farspeech cradled in his palm. Only now? Now, instead of barely restraining himself from making an exceptionally poor decision, he’s gone and _made_ that exceptionally poor decision in truly spectacular fashion.

It doesn’t quite feel real. He has to run through the conversation in his head several times before it finally does.

He has a date with Taako.

_No,_ no no no. _No._ He has a _business meeting_ with Taako. A business meeting that has absolutely no reason to exist, information that he has _very_ unscrupulously kept to himself (not that Taako appears to care either way, he must admit, but _no no no_ of _course_ he cares, even Taako isn’t going to call up the Grim Reaper and invite him places _for funsies_ ).

...well. Whatever it is. He’s going to get to see Taako again. And he can’t help but let that bring the hint of a smile to his face.

Now he just has to figure out what the _fuck_ a _Chug n’ Squeeze_ is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe it's just cause my "day job" is in an office environment but I just really adore the idea that the employees of the Astral plane are just like... a straight-up office-style business. It's Kathy from accounting's birthday today, guys, we're passing around a card to sign. There's gonna be cake in the conference room at 3
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading!! Chapter 5 is started and hopefully won't take half as long as this one, gonna be a bit meatier and cover the date at the Chug n' Squeeze so Get Hype

**Author's Note:**

> I realized halfway through writing this fic that tres horny boys may have actually died twelve times, since I didn't know if their passage through the white space upon first entering Refuge was a death or not. naturally I decided the only way to deal with this was to lampshade it in chapter 3 with zero additional consideration or discussion so look forward to that
> 
> also this is my first fic on ao3 and my first attempt to write something complete in ages!! please feel free to lemme know what you think here, or hit me up @anonymouspuzzler on tumblr where I draw some taz stuff sometimes


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